


Ready for the Worst

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, FOUR MONTHS, I worked on this for FOUR months, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeyne and Robb have sex and deal with the fallout of the Red Wedding. That's all there is to it. Maybe a bit of emotion. Sequel to "It's Better to Feel Pain (than nothing at all)."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready for the Worst

**Author's Note:**

> Four months ago, I wrote a short little chapter. I received quite a few nice comments, some saying I should continue it. This is a continuation of my only story (whose title is way too long).

Robb's face was resting in the crook of Jeyne's neck, his nose nuzzling pleasantly against her throat. His breath was warm, and his chest pressed against hers was comforting. Sunlight streamed into the room from the window, the sun slowly cresting over the castle walls. She wrapped her hand in his hair, closing her eyes and enjoying the gentle scrape of his beard as he slowly kissed his way upwards, along her chin to her mouth. She giggled into his mouth, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

He straightened, pulling away from her. Jeyne groaned in disappointment.

"I do need get up eventually, you know," he said, his voice full of regret.

"But not yet. Stay a little longer, my king," she whispered pulling him back down against her. "Robb," she gasped.

They weren't making love solely for pleasure. Robb needed an heir, especially now, with his position so unstable after the Frey wedding. Maybe he would bend the knee, Jeyne realized. He had never wanted to be king, he only wanted to return to the wreckage of Winterfell and rebuild. If anyone other than Joffrey sat on the iron throne, he wouldn't hesitate to bend the knee, and return home as the Lord of the North, if it meant he could go home. The thought didn't bother Jeyne. She had never asked to be queen, hadn't even expected to be Robb's wife. If she could live somewhere with Robb, be it in Winterfell, King's Landing or even the dungeons of Casterly Rock, she would be happy. Jeyne would not mourn for her loss of power, not when Robb was against her and warm and so very real. She wouldn't regret that her husband was no longer a king, not when he was still alive with her and, with a soft, pleasure filled gasp, inside of her. As long as Robb was with her, no matter where they were, she would be happy.

He panted against her temple, whispering her name across her skin as he thrust into her. 

"Jeyne," he said. "Jeyne." She dug her nails into the flesh of his back until she must be drawing blood. He winced in pain, but didn't tell her to stop, didn't give her any other indication that he was feeling anything but pleasure.

Jeyne cried out his name as she reached her pleasure, and he groaned and fell boneless against her not long after, his arms bracketing her sides, his weight anchoring her to the bed. It felt like he was her shield. With him like this, Jeyne didn't have to worry about the war or the wrath of Tywin Lannister with Robb around her. Robb would keep her safe. Robb would watch over her. The feeling of safety, mixed with the sound of his panting in her ear, was comforting, and Jeyne felt her eyes slide shut again, one hand buried in his auburn hair, the other resting on his back.

***

She woke up alone, the fire in the hearth burnt down to only ashes. She sat up, the furs pooling around her waist, revealing her bare chest. She blushed and covered herself, embarrassed about her nudity, despite the fact that she was alone, with not even her husband to see her. 

Robb was already up, leaving while she slept so as not to wake her. His kingly duties came first, she knew, even if she didn't like it. She didn't need to like it, all she needed to do was be the good wife (and the good queen) and not stand in the way of Robb and his duties (again).

The first time she stood in the way of his duties was when he took her maidenhead. He was betrothed to the Frey girl, and she was the daughter of an enemy's bannerman. When she comforted him, pressing her lips against his and forgetting the future, forgetting that without her virginity she had nothing to make her a suitable match, not gold nor an alliance, and thinking only of the man before her, only a boy really, and how he needed comfort. He was alone, his brothers dead at the hand of his best friend, his mother halfway across Westeros. She took care of him when he was sick, and she supposed it was no different. She knew she loved him, and she knew he felt the same, but any affection they felt was sure to only end in heartbreak. But his eyes were red, and, even though if she asked surely he'd deny it, Jeyne knew he had been crying. She wrapped her arms around him as he buried his head into her neck, her lips just scarcely brushing his hairline. He needed this, she told herself when she pulled his mouth up to hers. She needed this. Even if it was fated to end in her ruin, she couldn't leave him to bear the weight of his crown alone, even if all she could do was lessen his burden for one night.

Now it was her alone, though Robb was elsewhere in the castle. She rose from the bed, her husband's seed dried on her thighs. She prayed that this time he left her with child.

Jeyne pulled on her dress, twisting around to tie the laces herself. It was hard to reach, but she could do it on her own, for what kind of queen was she if she couldn't even dress herself without help? She would be a strong queen, as strong as Queen Cersei or Lady Catelyn.

She opened the door to her chambers and left the room. Jeyne passed a servant along the way, a young girl carrying a bucket of steaming water.

"Have you seen my husband?" Jeyne asked.

"M-m'lady?" the girl stammered, her brown eyes wide. They haven't forgiven me, Jeyne realized. Robb might not blame her, but the northerners would always think of her as the girl who nearly cost Robb his kingdom, and almost caused his death. They'll never forgive me, and they'll never forget. The north remembers.

"I'll find him myself. Don't worry about it," Jeyne reassured her. The girl nodded and hurried off, sloshing water on the floor in her haste to escape Jeyne.

She found Robb in Lord Hoster's solar (Lord Edmure's now, she reminded herself), hunched over his maps. Jeyne was struck by just how familiar it felt to see him here. After he executed Lord Karstark, he retired to the solar for hours, pouring over his maps. He didn't notice when she'd come to bring him lunch,and he scarcely noticed her even when her head was resting on his bare chest as they slept next to each other that night. It felt like so long ago, but it wasn't more than a few months earlier. It was difficult for her, to stand by her husband and do nothing, letting him work out his problems for himself.

He wasn't like that now. As soon as Robb heard the door open, he turned his to look at her, a smile widening across his face. Jeyne walked to his side, looking over his shoulder at the desk.

“The maid still doesn’t trust me,” she confessed. Robb took her hand stood up.

“She should trust you. You’re the queen.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. “My queen,” he whispered into her ear, his lips brushing her skin ever so slightly. 

“Are you ever satisfied?” she asked, laughing. She had one hand on his chest, not quite pushing him away, just... making it harder for him. He chuckled and pulled her closer.

“Not with you,” he whispered, his river-blue eyes fixed on hers. The intensity of his gaze made her look away. “What’s wrong,” he asked, his brow knitting in concern. “Did I say something?”

Jeyne shook her head. “No, no, it’s your fault. It’s just, you looked at me like there was nowhere else you’d rather be.”

He smiled at her. “There is nowhere I’d rather be,” he whispered, his breath (or maybe his words) sending shivers down her spine. He kissed down to her throat and sucked a dark bloom along her pulse point, feeling it beat against his mouth.

Jeyne twisted her hand in his dark auburn curls as he kissed lower and lower, until he was hiking her dress up along her thighs, up over her hips. He got to his knees in front of her, his head between her legs. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, but before she could he put his mouth there, at the thatch of dark curls between her legs, and she couldn’t think of anything but him and his wonderful, wonderful tongue.

***

Jeyne lay with her head on Robb’s chest on the floor of Lord Edmure’s solar, their legs tangled and clothes half on. He was deep in thought, leisurely stroking her long chestnut hair. “What are you thinking about?” he asked. She had been thinking of whether or not she had cost Robb his throne.

“I could ask you the same question.” She propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. “What are you thinking about?”

He chuckled and twisted one of her curls around his finger. “Just that my Uncle might be angry that we made love in his solar.”

Jeyne laughed. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he replied, smiling at her and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. He kissed her on the back of the head and sat up. 

Jeyne made a noise of displeasure but followed his example, pushing down her dress as he laced his breeches. 

"I wish we could go to Winterfell,” she said, before she could stop herself. Robb looked up, his eyebrows raised. “Or back to the Crag. I don’t care. I just want the war to be over.” Robb’s eyes were on hers. “It’s hard to watch you leave for battle and not know if you’re going to come back, and knowing that you might be bleeding a ditch somewhere, dying, and I might have caused it when I married you.” She was hyperventilating, words leaving her mouth as soon as they entered her head.

Robb wrapped his arms around her and silenced her with his mouth against hers. He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

Jeyne sighed and traced a pattern on his chest. “No matter how careful you are, you could always make a mistake. Get hit with an arrow. Get stabbed in the back. The longer the war goes on, the more likely you are to fall in battle.” She looked up. “Just… if you have to choose between returning home or remaining king-”

“I’d give my crown if it meant the war would be over and I could return home.”

“Do you promise?”

“Jeyne-”

“Do you promise?”

He nodded. “I promise, Jeyne,” he said, and she remembered the last time he promised he’d return to her, just outside the walls of Riverrun, before he marched to his death at the Twins.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You guys seem to love thinking up twist endings. Unfortunately, I just didn't have it in me to think of one last night. With any luck, this won't be my last story for this pairing, so I'll always have next time.


End file.
